


Crying Now Through A Rusted Smile

by Natileroxs



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Gen, based on a video and my dumb brain, don't read too much into it, idk - Freeform, mild panic attack, this was for a contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 22:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20161369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natileroxs/pseuds/Natileroxs
Summary: There are too many people and Ryan can't see his parents at all. How had he become so lost?(For a contest, based off this video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9eI8KF0EPQ )





	Crying Now Through A Rusted Smile

**Author's Note:**

> watch the video and everything will still not make much sense. this is the result of my dumb brain at something like 1 in the morning lying in bed trying to think of an idea for a certain prompt and going wait a minute... 
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy i guess.

He’s running to catch up with them. His father’s short but he can have a large stride if desired, and his mother, despite her stiletto heels, keeps pace with him easily. Ryan’s not sure what happened between leaving the table and getting separated from the pair in the sea of flashing lights and shutters going off. One second his mother’s hand is on his shoulder and now he can barely see the top of her head. He struggles to weave his way through the crowd, trying to avoid the wet grass and the sticky mud as much as possible. 

He trips a few times as he runs. Feet are everywhere, and people don’t seem to notice or care about how much of a rush he’s in. He starts to panic, because he’s lost his parents in the crowd, and he’ll be trampled any second now, whether by cameramen or reporters he’s not too sure. 

One thing he’s kind of sure about is that he’s a little drunk. Just a little, although the overwhelming environment makes it hard to tell exactly how much he’s had. 

“Mom?” He tries to shout over the mass of noise bouncing off the walls of the buildings on both sides and into his ears. She can’t hear him, he knows it. But he really wishes she could. He wishes that she could hear his voice and turn back around and pull him into a bone-crushing hug because there are too many people and too many sounds and he just wants everything to stop. 

“Mom!” He calls a little louder and gets pushed back further in response. He struggles more and stumbles over legs and feet and only stays upright from the sway of people. 

“Hey!” A stranger grabs his arm forcefully and drags him out of the crowd and he pulls away with all his strength. The guy doesn’t let go, and instead jerks him further into the clear, and then pushes him away and another hand hooks around his wrist. The new person moves quickly and again he has to run to keep up. 

He looks up and it’s her face, with her hair crimson and pouring down her neck and back. She puts her arm around his shoulder as they slow down, catching up with a familiar, significantly shorter, human being. His father reaches behind him and takes both their hands, standing in front of them like a barrier. 

There are fewer people now, but they’re still shoving questions in his parent’s faces and he just wants to leave. The car is so close, so, so close, and yet it feels like it’s miles away. His mother talks over her shoulder as they near the vehicle, yet just her voice and his father’s grasp makes him feel so much safer. 

His mother gets in first, almost being pushed in by his father, and she crawls on her hands and knees to the far seat. His father’s next, hanging out the door longer than needed, talking to the reporters and paparazzi and waving them away. 

“Hurry up and get in,” Ryan almost whines at him and his father slides over ever so slightly, seizing Ryan’s upper arm and elbow and tugging him inside. He struggles to find his footing for a second before pulling himself in.

He reaches around and wrenches the door closed, relaxing into the leather seats as he sighs, trying to calm his racing heart. Without the mass of people, without the haze of sound and bodies pressing too close, the stench of sweat surrounding him and driving it’s way up his nose. His father gently reaches over and pats his shoulder before turning to look straight ahead, gaze sharp, almost protective. 

Ryan breathes out softly, gently, and closes his eyes. 


End file.
